


How I Spent My Christmas Vacation

by juice817, semaphoredrivethru



Series: Past Curfew [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-17
Updated: 2011-10-17
Packaged: 2017-10-26 04:47:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/278855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juice817/pseuds/juice817, https://archiveofourown.org/users/semaphoredrivethru/pseuds/semaphoredrivethru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver will never see Kings Cross in quite the same way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How I Spent My Christmas Vacation

Oliver waved at his parents as they left. He wasn't really sure they even saw but didn't really care, not this year. This year, he was spending a few days with Bill for Christmas. He tugged at his jumper to straighten it, shouldered his rucksack and headed into Kings Cross. This time on a Sunday, the station was, although certainly not deserted, quiet and free from the crowds it would hold tomorrow morning. He wasn't sure where Bill would be, but he knew they'd find each other. Maybe Bill would be at the Hogsmeade station, or maybe in the Gryffindor common room. He couldn't wait, and nearly bounced as he made his way to Platform 9 3/4.

It had been a long shot that Bill would actually manage to find Oliver at the Muggle train station, but somehow Bill had gotten it into his head that it would be a fun surprise. Besides, if Oliver didn't get on the Hogwarts Express, then no one would ever know he was missing for a few days. Hopefully. Spotting Oliver at last, Bill straightened his borrowed porter's uniform and brushed past a couple of ladies in what appeared to be tattered housecoats, and cleared his throat.

"Help you with your luggage, sir?" he said, deliberately pitching his voice differently.

"No, I got it," Oliver said dismissively. "S'just this." He shrugged the shoulder with the bag on it and kept walking without looking at the porter, even rolling his eyes at the thought that he'd need help with his one bag. _Muggles._ Quickening his step just a bit, he turned the corner, leaving the main entrance foyer and heading for the wall between platforms 9 and 10.

"Are you sure?" Bill asked, reaching to tug on one of the bag straps. "You know, there aren't any trains that way for at least an hour, sir." To his credit, he even managed to keep a straight face as he said it, though Bill wasn't entirely certain how.

"I know where I'm going, thank you." Oliver tugged back, honestly irritated now. He looked up at the man, ready to glare him into going the hell away, and his mouth fell open as he saw Bill in the porter's uniform. The irritation turned instantly to jubilation, and Oliver threw himself at Bill, arms going tightly around his neck. " _Bill!_ "

Laughing, caught up in Oliver's infectious enthusiasm, Bill caught Oliver about the waist. "'Lo, gorgeous," he said, grinning and kissing the tip of Oliver's nose. "Miss me?"

"Dumb question," Oliver murmured, lifting his face the little bit necessary to press their mouths together. "God, it's been _awful_." Oliver hoped Bill had missed him too, but didn't want to know if he hadn't, so he just kissed Bill instead.

Bill felt safely anonymous among the Muggles, so he pushed back his porter's cap, tilted his face, and kissed Oliver back. It felt so _good_ to kiss him again, to have Oliver's solid body pressed against his, and maybe the tight feeling he'd been carrying for weeks now hadn't been _anxiety_ about seeing Oliver again after all. Not that Oliver really needed that sort of encouragement, Bill thought as they kissed.

"Well these porters certainly are full service these days, now aren't they, Gladys?" a female voice, wobbly with age, said. "Hey, son, when you're done over there, I could use some of that help you're offering!"

"Constance!" a scandalised voice said.

"What?" Constance said, their voices drifting off as they wandered away. "It's been fifteen years, and if he's helping with _that_ sort of baggage..."

Oliver buried his face in Bill's shoulder, laughing helplessly. "That'll teach you to dress up," he said, nearly giggling. "What are you doing in that, anyway?"

"I thought everyone liked a bloke in uniform," Bill said, chuckling and squeezing Oliver once more before letting go a bit more slowly than he'd meant to. "Besides, you should have _seen_ the look on your face. Abso-bloody-lutely priceless."

Reluctantly letting his arms slide from around Bill's neck, Oliver rolled his eyes at the taller man. "I was _trying_ ," he said a bit indignantly, "to get to the platform so I could get back to Hogsmeade and find _you_." Oliver punctuated the "you" with a light poke of his finger into Bill's stomach. "And this Muggle porter wouldn't leave me alone." He smoothed his hands over the uniform. "S'nice," he said quietly, "but I'd rather see you out of it."

Bill hummed softly and looked Oliver up and down. "Of course you do," he murmured, then grinned again. "But first, you ought to come with me to the loo; it's a good a spot as any to Apparate out of around here, and it'll be the perfect place for me to give you something every growing boy needs."

"Okay," Oliver said, raising an eyebrow. "What, exactly, does every growing boy need?" He started walking toward the loo, hand absently curling around Bill's as he did.

Bill said nothing as they walked into the men's room. There were a few occupied stalls, but no one was at the sinks or urinals, and Bill smirked at how perfect it was for what he had in mind. Fisting his hand in Oliver's jumper, he hauled the younger man into the stall all the way at the end, closed the door and locked it, and then pressed Oliver against the wall, kissing him hard, hand already working at his flies, tongue tasting those tempting lips. "Every growing boy _needs_ ," he growled softly, fingers teasing the waistband of Oliver's pants, and then cupping him through the thin cotton, "a mind-blowing orgasm in the middle of a public place."

Oliver whimpered against Bill's mouth, hips pushing up into Bill's hand as he let the rucksack fall from his shoulder to the floor. "I- we- really?" he gasped, threading his hands through Bill's hair and kissing him back almost desperately. He'd missed this, so much, needed the taste of Bill more than he needed air. He wasn't sure it was a good idea, but Oliver was rapidly losing the ability to think rationally; he realised he didn't care, and stopped thinking altogether. " _Bill._ "

"Really." Bill wanted to get down on his knees, right there on the filthy floor, to suck Oliver off, but he couldn't seem to make himself stop kissing and tasting, tracing the inside of Oliver's mouth with his tongue. He had tried, while back in Egypt, to get the kid out of his system, but they'd all just left Bill feeling... cold. And now that he had Oliver here and pinned against the wall, had his hand curled around Oliver's cock, Bill knew it was because no one else had ever reacted with such honest, wild abandon before. He kissed a hot and wet trail to Oliver's ear, sucking on the soft lobe. "I want to taste you all over, Ollie. I want to watch you while you show me how you've been wanking for me."

" _Yes_ ," Oliver moaned. His mouth was open; he was already panting and melting from the inside out. "Please." He let go of Bill's hair and reached down to tug the back of the uniform up, reaching under to dig his fingers into the warm skin of Bill's back. "I need you. I've missed you so much. I want you to fuck me until I can't walk."

Bill shook with want, hand tight around Oliver's cock as he turned Oliver around and pressed up against his back, grinding his own hard-on against that perfect arse. "That's exactly what I was thinking," Bill growled, sucking on the side of Oliver's neck, not caring if he left marks just now. He groaned, thrusting against Oliver's arse in time with the hard strokes of his hand. "But right now I wanna make you come while people listen to you whimper and moan and beg for my cock, Ollie. You make the hottest fucking noises, you know they've all got to be just as hard as I am. Right. Now." The last few words were punctuated by particularly hard tugs on Oliver's cock and sharp thrusts of Bill's hips.

Oliver cried out, helplessly moving with each tug and thrust. He rested his cheek against the cool tile wall and curled his hands into fists on either side of his head. "Please, oh god, Bill, please. I need you so much." He bit his lip, small needy noises spilling out. "Fuck me, god, please fuck me." Oliver no longer cared where they were, or whether there were a million people lined up outside the stall listening. "It's nothing like my own hand, nothing feels as good as your hands on me. Your mouth. Your cock. Please, I want your cock."

"You got it, Ollie." Grabbing his wand, Bill cast the preparation charm with a vengance and let go of Oliver to shove the younger man's jeans and pants down, growling for Oliver to spread his legs as he opened his own flies and pulled his cock out. Groaning, Bill rubbed against Oliver's arse, one hand sliding up under Oliver's jumper to tweak and tease a nipple.

Eagerly spreading his legs as far as the jeans would let him, Oliver canted his hips back, rubbing Bill in return. He was whimpering almost continually now, face pressed hard against the wall, and he reached back to spread his own cheeks, trying to encourage Bill inside as soon as possible. "So long," he mumbled, "s'been so long. _Please_."

Bill shifted, pushed, and worked his way into Oliver with several hard, quick thrusts. He paused for a few heartbeats when he was completely in, a groaned, "Too fucking long," slipping past his numb lips, not that Bill even realised he had spoken at all. Then he started thrusting, hard and fast, not willing to draw it out this time, knowing they had days ahead of them for taking it slow. "Fuck, Ollie..." he groaned. "So. Good."

"Yes," Oliver whispered. He braced himself against the wall and pushed back into each thrust, mewling as Bill pushed in again and again and again and it had been so long and Oliver had missed him so much and it was so bloody _good_ that the orgasm slammed through Oliver in a sudden rush. He cried out again as his body stiffened, come spraying the wall in front of him.

Gasping, Bill clamped his lower lip between sharp teeth to keep from making too much noise as he hurtled head-first after Oliver, thrusting all the way in once more and then coming harder than what felt like in forever, because it felt like it had been forever since he'd had Oliver last. He saw stars, shook, and barely managed to gasp out a tight, praising, "Oliver!" as he emptied over and over.

Oliver's legs were shaking so much he wasn't sure he could stand upright much longer, but he really didn't want to lean into the mess he'd made. He leaned back into Bill instead and could feel the older man trembling, too. A slow, smug smile spread across his face, although it vanished when the blood stopped roaring in his ears and he could once again hear the men outside the stall. He flushed red.

Reaching back, Oliver hooked one arm behind Bill's neck and twisted his own head so he could whisper, "Can you Apparate us out of here yet?" His voice was shaky too. He was not ashamed of what they'd done, but the comments and catcalls were upsetting, to say the least. He loved Bill, and thought maybe Bill might like him a lot back, and he loved what they did together. It was beautiful. His voice was a little thick as he continued, "Or do you need a minute?"

"I'm afraid we can't leave that way now," Bill said, bending his head and kissing the red mark he'd left on Oliver's neck. He'd have liked nothing more than to just Apparate them to his room, but... "We've made a bit of a scene, and I'm sure they'll notice if we don't leave." But he still didn't let go of Oliver just yet, the both of them struggling to catch their breath, Bill's arms wrapped around Oliver, cradling him against his slender chest.

Oliver didn't really care if they noticed or not, but he nodded and tried to force his lungs to stop gulping in air. He unhooked his arm from Bill's neck and wrapped both arms around Bill's, holding them tight to his body. "Okay," he murmured. He thought absently that he should clean off the wall, but he didn't let go of Bill.

The comments from outside the stall had lessened, but still hadn't stopped, and Bill resigned himself to walking the gamut. Slowly, carefully, Bill untangled their bodies and turned them so Oliver could lean against the door if he wanted to. Then he pulled a set of clothes from his trouser pocket, neatly shrunken. Bill stripped out of the uniform quickly, dressing even faster when he realised just how chilly it was in the loo. Then he shoved the wrinkled and come-stained uniform behind the toilet as Oliver finished tucking himself in and fastening his trousers, and kissed him lightly. "C'mon, then," he said gently. "They're just a bunch of arseholes who're jealous they can't get a hot shag in the loo like the rest of us."

Oliver managed a smile that went nowhere near his eyes. "Okay," he said again and squared his shoulders. He opened the stall door and walked out staring straight ahead, fighting to ignore the men watching them. One of them reached out as he passed and tugged at the sleeve of Oliver's jumper. "'Ere now," the man said with a leer, "'ow much you charge for a go like that?" He jerked his head at the stall Bill and Oliver had just left. Oliver's face went from an embarrassed red to a deathly pale in the space of a heartbeat.

Bill heard what the man said, saw Oliver's reaction to it, and did the first thing he could think of to stop things from getting out of hand. With Oliver's bag over his shoulder, Bill came up behind Oliver and wrapped his arms around his waist, kissing his neck softly, glaring at the bloke who'd talked to Oliver like he was some common slag. _Like you treated him any better by fucking him here, Weasley?_

"My baby doesn't charge me," he said in a low and dangerous voice. "And he wouldn't touch your sorry cock for the Crown Jewels. Now if you don't mind, we haven't seen each other in months, and I want some real quality time." He nuzzled behind Oliver's ear, squeezing him gently. "Hungry, love?" he murmured. "We can get some dinner before we go back to my place."

Still pale, Oliver shook his head faintly. "Let's just go," he said quietly. "Unless you want something." Oliver covered one of Bill's hands with his own and tangled their fingers together. He stepped reluctantly out of the circle of Bill's arms and walked past the outspoken man without another word, tugging Bill along behind him.

Mostly concerned with Oliver, Bill almost didn't see the man reaching for Oliver again until it was almost too late. But he reacted in time, free hand wrapping vise-like around the stranger's wrist. "I might be queer, but I can still kick your arse, mate," Bill threatened. "Touch what's mine again and you'll bring back a fucking stump. Are we crystal?"

"Bill," Oliver said, "let's go." He tugged at Bill's hand again, giving the stranger a dismissive look. "He's nothing. Let's go home." He was torn between lingering embarrassment from the man's question, excitement at being with Bill again, and pleasure over Bill's possessiveness.

"Fine then," Bill said, letting go of the man's wrist like he'd been holding something cold and slimey. He squeezed Oliver's hand and let go only to wrap his arm over the younger man's shoulders. They walked out of the loo and across the train station that way, and Bill didn't let go of Oliver until they were outside. "I'm sorry about that," he said softly, turning and kissing Oliver softly. "I don't know what I was thinking, putting you in that situation."

Oliver lifted a hand to cup Bill's cheek, smiling faintly. "I don't know either," he said dryly. "It couldn't possibly have been my begging you to fuck me now." He rubbed his thumb over Bill's bottom lip. "It was definitely worth it," he added absently, eyes watching his thumb as it moved back and forth, then his lips twitched and his gaze lifted to meet Bill's. "My baby doesn't charge me?"

Bill laughed, turning a faint shade of pink. "It was the first thing I could think of to shut the wanker up," he muttered. "Well, other than a silencing curse, but that would've blown our cover, now wouldn't it?"

Oliver laughed and put his arm around Bill's waist, starting them walking again aimlessly. It didn't matter which way; they could Apparate from any alley. "You could have told him I was priceless. Or really expensive," he said, still grinning, although it faded a little as he said hesitantly, "Was it just because we were shagging there, or do I just look like, like a p-prostitute?"

"You don't look like a prostitute, Ollie," Bill said, arm around Oliver's shoulders again. "I'm sorry," he said again, not sure what else to say.

"Don't be sorry," Oliver said. Bill had been out of control, had wanted him _that_ much. He shivered. "Let's go to your place and do it again. It was brilliant."

"Insatiable," Bill said with smirk, squeezing Oliver's shoulder as he steered them into the nearest alleyway. "I've taken a room here in London," he said, pulling Oliver behind a stack of empty crates and away from anyone who might be watching. "In case you let me up for air and we want to go anywhere."

Oliver grinned up Bill. They might go _out_. Like a _date_. "Well, I guess we can't fuck _all_ the time." He laughed as he slid his arms around Bill's waist, waiting for him to Apparate them.

"We could always try, though," Bill teased with a wink, and then they disappeared with _pop_ , rematerialising in the alley behind Bill's hotel. He looked down at Oliver, who hadn't made so much as a move to let go of him yet. "Damn sight faster than a cab," he said with a knowing smile.

"Yeah," Oliver agreed. "Cheaper too." He leaned up to kiss Bill lightly. "Should we go try?" he murmured into Bill's mouth with a sensual grin.

Bill laughed, a throaty sound. "Let's."

  
~**~**~**~**~**~

  
"I have to go back today." Oliver tried not to sound quite as dejected as he felt as he reminded Bill that their time together had come to an end. He slid his hand down over the arm Bill had wrapped around his waist and tugged it more securely around himself. He'd gotten used to sleeping like this, spooned with Bill, and wondered what he would do when he had to go back to sleeping alone.

Bill hummed quietly and nosed at Oliver's hair. "In a few hours," he mumbled sleepily, curling closer. They hadn't slept all that much the night before (but then again, they hadn't all week, Bill thought with a satisfied smirk), and Bill just wanted to relax before they had to do something strange like put on clothes and leave the room for longer than it took to get take-away. He was comfortable, warm, and feeling slightly randy even though a few hours before he'd been sure it was going to be days before he'd have the energy to get it up again. "Unless you're eager to get home and tell your mate Angie everything you did on your winter hols, that is."

Oliver blushed and pinched Bill's arm. "I'd rather do some of it again than talk about it," he said, sidestepping the admission that yes, he would be telling Angie all about his week with Bill. Well, maybe not _all_ about it. His lips curved in a slow, satisfied smile, and he snuggled back into Bill's body. Trailing his fingers over the skin he'd pinched, Oliver quietly admitted, "I'm not at all eager to get home."

"School's not all that bad," Bill said, kissing behind Oliver's ear and pulling him closer. With Oliver's arse nestled against his groin, Bill curved his arm across Oliver's solid chest, thumb moving back and forth slowly. "I always liked the showers, myself."

That made Oliver laugh softly. "Yeah. And Quidditch is completely wicked." Wriggling, he turned in Bill's arms to face him, nuzzling Bill's nose with his own shorter one. "But it'll be ages before I have a shag again," he murmured. He pressed his mouth to Bill's, sucking his bottom lip in and lightly biting it.

"Not," Bill reminded, arching a ginger-coloured eyebrow, "if you find a nice queer mate or two that's probably been wanking for ages while thinking about your gorgeous body." He cupped and squeezed Oliver's arse, purring in appreciation. "It's certainly the stuff fantasies are made of."

"Stop it," Oliver murmured, nosing along Bill's jaw. "No one wanks thinking of me. I don't want them to, either. I don't want to shag anyone else."

For a moment, Bill considered telling Oliver that _he_ had wanked while thinking about Oliver, but then decided it really wouldn't help him in convincing Oliver to find someone his own age. Even if it was the truth. "I'm flattered," he said, tilting his head to make room. "But there's no way I'm that good that I'm worth you missing out on one of the few parts of being a teenager that actually _is_ fun."

Oliver scraped his teeth over the bend of bone before Bill's ear, then licked at his neck. "Not missing anything," he said absently, setting his lips to the warm skin and sucking hard. Oliver thought Bill was pretty good, but admitted if only to himself that he had no basis for comparison. Still, it wasn't just the sex, although that was brilliant. It was _Bill_. The smirk that was nearly always lurking in his eyes. The sheer confidence under everything he did, everything he said. The tall lean body that was such a joy to watch. To touch. The hair. God, the hair. And the freckles. Oliver smiled against Bill's neck. _Can't forget the freckles._

"Mmmm... are too," Bill said. He really didn't remember what it was they were arguing about, but if Oliver wanted to prove his point by showing off what he'd learned... Right. That was it. He rolled back, pulling Oliver over until he was half-sprawled across Bill's long, lean body. "I know you won't go fucking around, but you owe it to yourself not to ignore chances to get a mate with benefits that your mum really will believe is just a school chum."

"Sure." Oliver didn't roll his eyes, but it was close. He levered himself up so he was draped fully over Bill. "If I promise not to ignore any chances, will you please shut up about it?" Oliver felt safe promising that; Angie was the only one at school who knew he liked boys instead of girls and if there really were any chances he could always say no. Refusal wasn't ignoring. He folded his arms over Bill's chest and put his chin on them. "It's very strange," he said, grinning down at Bill, "to have you talk about me fucking someone else when we're naked in bed together."

Bill laughed, smiling broadly. "How do you know," he asked, absently tracing the lines of Oliver's face with his fingers, eyes following the lazy path and then flickering up, mischief dancing in the dark blue depths, "that I haven't got a fetish for voyuerism? Maybe it'll turn me on to hear you describe what it's like to ride other cock."

Now Oliver did roll his eyes, even as he laughed. "You'd rather be doing than watching, I think. You're not that patient." He turned his head to kiss Bill's fingers. "We can talk about the fetishes you _do_ have, or you can fuck me again. I don't think there's time for both before the train." His face fell and he sighed, accent thickening as he murmured, "I don't want to go."

"I know," Bill said softly, and pulled Oliver in for a kiss instead of comforting him like he wanted to for just a moment. "I reckon I'd rather fuck than talk, really. I can always tell you what makes me hot under the robes some other time." He reached for the heavily-used bottle of lubricant and offered it to Oliver. "Let me see you get yourself ready, Ollie. Let me see you with your fingers in your arse while you think about my cock."

Oliver smirked as he took the bottle and lay back. "I thought we were going to talk about what makes you hot some other time," he said and laughed as he smeared lube over two fingers and reached between his legs.

Bill smirked right back. "There's a difference between talking and doing, Ollie-boy," he said, running lazy fingers down his own body, turning to face Oliver better. His fingers ghosted over the tightly-curled red hairs at his groin, and then Bill traced the length of his slowly-swelling shaft with the tip of his middle finger. "The difference being that doing means rather a lot more fun all around for the both of us."

"Mmm," Oliver said absently, more focused at the moment on sliding his fingers into himself. He was always a little surprised at how much he could feel the stretch of it, especially now, after so many hours spent with something much larger in there. Once both fingers were in past his knuckles, Oliver brought his knees up and relaxed, closing his eyes. "I'm to think about your cock, am I?" he said, lips twitching as he fought back the laugh that threatened. His breath caught as he spread his fingers inside.

With his eyes closed his fingers felt bigger, the sensations stronger, and Oliver could feel the heat as it spread across his cheeks and down his neck. He suddenly didn't feel like laughing any more. Oliver moaned softly and tugged his bottom lip between strong white teeth.

When Oliver moaned, it shivered straight down Bill's spine, the muscles in his arse tightening reflexively as Bill curled his hand about his cock. "Go on," he urged in a rough voice. He stroked himself, hand moving slowly up and down the length of firming flesh. He'd been thinking about watching Oliver like this ever since those letters of his. "Go slow. Tell me what you're thinking, Ollie."

"About your cock," Oliver murmured, and managed a smile that faltered when he began stroking his fingers slowly in and out of himself. "About how it's bigger than my fingers, how much better it feels when it's you in me instead." Oliver swallowed, breath coming faster. "How you smell," he continued, "how warm your body is against me. So strong and solid and real." His fingers pushed in and out faster, and his other hand curled around his cock, stroking the firming flesh.

Groaning softly, Bill got to his knees, crawling between Oliver's bent legs so he could see all the better. He pulled slowly on his cock, mesmerised by the motion of Oliver's hands. "Is this how you wank, Ollie?" he asked, his free hand sliding up to play with one of his flat nipples. Bill's breath hitched and his hand tightened. "How you wanked when you got my letter, telling you all the things you make me want to do to you?"

"Sometimes," Oliver laughed, "and hell no." He opened his eyes again to grin at Bill. "God, when I got that letter..." Oliver shook his head. "I was sure there'd be friction burns on my hands, from wanking so hard, and I think that's the fastest I've ever come in my life."

Bill laughed throatily. "You look amazing like this, you know," he purred, shifting forward and closer. "So very fucking hot."

Oliver spread his legs further, pumped his cock faster. "Yeah?" he asked softly, challengingly. He lifted an eyebrow and said, "So why are you still clear down there?"

"Voyuerism fetish," Bill said, smirking. But he still let go of his cock and crawled forward. "Gives me more things to think about when _I_ wank." He reached for Oliver's cock, batting his tanned hand out of the way and taking over the job.

Oliver's eyes fluttered shut as Bill's hand moved over his cock. It always felt so much better when it was Bill's hand instead of his own. Plus... "You think about me?" Oliver whispered. He reached out and curved his hand over Bill's shoulder, up around his neck under that gorgeous red hair.

"Sometimes," Bill said, grinning crookedly. More often in the past few weeks, actually, but it would have been giving too much away to say so. "I'd have to be dead not to. Not when I know how you feel, what you look like..." He tightened his hand, stroking a little faster. "The sounds you make."

Oliver made another one of those sounds, a helpless moan low in his throat. "That, that feels so good," he said. His legs shifted restlessly, one knee falling to the side as his fingers moved faster, thrusting into his arse in tandem with Bill's hand on his cock.

"I love the way you fall into this," Bill murmured, squeezing harder for a moment. "The way you fall apart... it just makes me want you even more." He wondered if Oliver would still be this wanton after he'd been with more people. Hoped, in fact, that he would, and that Bill might get a chance to see so for himself. He had no business wanting that, he knew. Not with Oliver being so much younger, with so many opportunities ahead of him that Bill was beyond now, even though he was only twenty-three. It was only a handful of years that wouldn't have meant a thing if they were both in their twenties, but it was a chasm between them now. A chasm that Bill had accepted over the past few days he couldn't cross, and at the same time wouldn't be deterred from skirting so long as Oliver would continue to offer himself like this.

Shaking off the lingering sense of guilt that his wandering mind had stirred, Bill kissed the side of Oliver's raised knee. "Add another finger, gorgeous," he said, forging on ahead. "Talk to me some more."

"O-okay," Oliver said, voice hitching. He shifted restlessly and spread his legs further before pushing another finger inside, moaning again as he stretched himself a bit wider. "Um. You, I don't - what do you want me to say?" Oliver blinked slowly, trying to keep his eyes open to watch Bill, fighting the need to completely lose himself. He couldn't quite think straight any more, not with his fingers pushing rhythmically inside and Bill's hand stroking his cock. Between the physical pleasure and the idea of Bill wanking while thinking about him, Oliver simply couldn't remember what he'd been saying before Bill had admitted it.

"Dirty things," Bill urged, leaning closer, free hand rubbing slowly high up on the inside of Oliver's thigh. "What it makes you want, do you have to gag yourself when you wank? I know the charms only do so much at school... do you make those noises when you think about me?"

Giving up, Oliver closed his eyes. "It makes me want your cock," he whispered. "I can't stop the noises. I think about you, about your hair and the way you smile and the way your cock _feels_ and I have to use a towel to keep the noise in. I tore the sheets with my teeth so I use a towel now." Oliver tugged with his hand in Bill's hair. "Please, Bill, kiss me. I want to taste you."

 _Tore the sheets?_ Bill's eyebrows went up at that. "I'm impressed," he said with a wry grin, and moved to the side, curling against Oliver, hand still stroking him even as he nuzzled Oliver's neck, his jaw, and over to his lips. "Very wanton of you."

"Stupid sheets," Oliver muttered, head turning to follow Bill's lips and catch them with his own. His fingers moved faster, his breathing harsher as he almost panted into the kiss. "Faster, please, Bill, I need... oh god." He was suddenly so close, nearly there, pleasure roiling through his system. " _Bill._ "

But instead of giving it to Oliver, Bill actually _slowed_ his hand, loosened his grip. "Wouldn't you rather come on my cock, Ollie?" he purred.

"Yes," Oliver hissed, frustration and pleasure both clear in the single word. He arched his neck and groaned, then tugged his fingers free of his arse and wrapped them around Bill's cock instead. "Always. _Fuck me_."

Bill groaned and nipped lightly at Oliver' shoulder. "On your side. Face away, Ollie," he ordered in soft tones.

Oliver pulled Bill's face up to his for a quick hard kiss before he obeyed, rolling over so his back was to Bill. He reached down to cup his balls, hand carefully squeezing before moving up to stroke his cock again. It felt good, but it wasn't Bill's hand. Oliver kept stroking anyway.

"Wait for me," Bill breathed, covering Oliver's hand, stopping it. Then he scooted up against Oliver's back and pulled one of Oliver's legs against his chest, pressed against the exposed entrance, and slid into Oliver with a shuddering gasp. "Nice... work," he praised as his cock was squeezed by perfect, slick walls of muscle.

"Oh _god_ ," Oliver gasped, muscles fluttering around Bill's cock, adjusting, squeezing. He wrapped his arms around his leg to hold it close to his chest, keeping it up and keeping himself open. Bending his head, Oliver bit his knee. God, it felt so _good_. It _always_ felt so bloody good to have Bill inside him. He moaned and rested his forehead on his knee.

Bill moved steadily, pulling out and pushing back in, not teasing or wasting time. Neither of them could take that just now, especially Oliver, who acted as though he hadn't even _heard_ of the concept of holding back on purpose. He mouthed along the back of Oliver's neck, panting softly as he thrust. "Fuck, you always feel so _good_."

Oliver's arms tightened on his leg, fingers digging into his skin, working helplessly against his calf muscles. "Yeah," he mewled in panting agreement. Knowing this was the last time he'd have this for awhile made the pleasure bittersweet. Oliver shoved the thought away and gave himself over to Bill and the steady rhythm of his cock.

With Oliver's leg up as it was, Bill couldn't reach his cock, couldn't stroke and fuck at the same time. "Leg down, Ollie," he growled, gasping as everything tightened when Oliver obeyed. He whimpered, grinding his hips harder, caressing down Oliver's chest, over his tense stomach, down to his groin. Long, freckled fingers wrapped around Oliver's cock and tugged, and Bill bit at the back of Oliver's shoulder, groaning, "There. Better, isn't it?"

"Yes," Oliver whimpered. He arched helplessly into each thrust, moving with Bill as he rode the pleasure he'd only found here. With Bill. He reached back and put his hand on Bill's arse, squeezing, trying to pull him in harder. "Bill," he moaned, "so good. _So good_." He arched again and squeezed his muscles on Bill on the next thrust in. "Fuck me."

"Oh god!" Bill cried out, thrusts becoming uneven when Oliver clenched around him. "O-ollie..." So close already, and it was all Bill could do to hold on, to draw it out and _not come yet_. "So fucking amazing..."

Oliver moaned again and again, needy sounds spilling out of his throat with each hard shove into his arse. It _was_ absolutely amazing, and with a harsh, sharp inhale Oliver came, eyes wide and blind, body stiffening abruptly as he spilled over Bill's hand.

"Fucking hell, Ollie, you're so... god, you feel, and you're amazing and..." Bill could barely breathe but he kept on praising, gasping and shaking until he ran out of air, and then he sucked in a great lungful of air and came, emptying deep inside Oliver and body so tense he could barely whisper his lover's name as he clutched and shuddered.

"Bill," Oliver murmured, still panting, lungs gradually slowing as his heart rate did. His hand clenched on Bill's arse again and then lazily stroked the freckled skin. He smiled, a smug lazy expression of sheer pleasure as he felt Bill calming behind him. His legs shifted to rub against Bill's and then he sighed. "Surely we can just stay here. Right?"

Bill twisted away briefly, his cock slipping free and a soft grunt in the back of his throat as Bill lost that clenching warmth about his length. He wiped his hand on the sheets behind him before curling back and pulling Oliver close. He sighed in contentment, a small smile on his face. "For a little while," he murmured, warm and comfortable and utterly loathe to give it up just yet. "I'll take you to the station in a bit. Just not yet."

"Not yet," Oliver echoed softly. He took Bill's hand in his and threaded their fingers, bringing their linked hands to his mouth. He kissed Bill's hand, then tucked their hands into the crook of his own neck and closed his eyes. "Thank you."

"My pleasure," Bill said, smiling against the back of Oliver's neck.

"It's going to be weeks again, isn't it?" Oliver asked softly. The corners of his mouth turned down and he closed his eyes. He really hated this part.

"At the very least," Bill admitted. "They don't like us wasting the cool winter days in travel when we could be working. I might manage April for a visit home, but anything before that will have to be for the bank."

"Okay." Oliver's voice was a bare whisper. He swallowed hard and brought their hands to his mouth again to kiss Bill's fingers. He knew if he said anything else it would be begging Bill to stay, or to take him to Egypt, or to say something Bill didn't want to hear so he kept his mouth shut and savoured the way Bill's body felt against his own.

Bill said nothing, because there was nothing he was willing to say that would make it better for Oliver. The sweet, tender things he sensed Oliver wanted to hear would only complicate things between them. So Bill just held him instead, breathing in tandem with him as the minutes ticked by.

Eventually there was no time left, and still silent, Oliver reluctantly disentangled himself from Bill and rose from the bed they'd spent so much time in together. He showered quickly and then once dressed, went back to sit on the edge of the bed. Reaching out, Oliver brushed the hair back out of Bill's eyes and managed a small smile. "I can get myself back, you know."

Not quite ready to say goodbye just yet, Bill caught Oliver's hand and pressed a kiss to the centre of his palm. "I'll go with," he said, one corner of his mouth lifting up into a small grin. "Just in case there are any more overly helpful porters about."

That made Oliver laugh softly. "I appreciate the protection," he said, curving his fingers along Bill's jaw. He didn't want to go. His own jaw worked as he grit his teeth before he said, "You'd better get dressed, then. You can't go like that." Oliver's eyes drifted down Bill's body possessively before he looked away. _God_ , he thought dejectedly. _April_. His shoulders slumped.

Bill sighed quietly, and rolled away. He washed up and dressed quickly, pulling on a dark blue jumper and a pair of snug jeans, completely forgoing pants. Once he had his boots and socks on, Bill sauntered over to Oliver where he still sat on the bed, and tugged him up, wrapping long, strong arms around the younger man. "All packed?" he asked, because there wasn't much else to say.

Oliver wrapped himself around Bill and buried his face in his chest. He nodded and then laughed, the sound muffled in Bill's jumper. "I didn't really unpack to begin with," he surfaced to say with a teasing grin. It's not like he'd needed clothes the last few days.

"That's true," Bill said, and Summoned Oliver's bag. He kissed Oliver's nose lightly, smile a bit softer than he'd meant, and then Apparated them to an alley near the station. Kings Cross would be filled with people because of all the holidays, so Bill took one more stolen moment and covered Oliver's mouth with his own, kissing him once more. "I'll see about sooner," he whispered, lips to lips. "No promises, mind."

"Okay," Oliver whispered again, far more hopeful than the last time. "I have to go," he said again but instead of pulling away he leaned closer, tilting his head to kiss Bill deeply, sliding his tongue against Bill's. He hummed. "Write to me." He pulled away but only made it half a dozen steps before running back for another quick kiss. "Bye."

Another kiss and a laugh against Bill's mouth and Oliver was gone, headed for the station at a quick lope. He couldn't look back, not if he wanted to make the train.


End file.
